#is it time to go home yet?

[pose4photoml]

😉

[spotsupstuff]

I'm still working on getting the gardening ending for myself, but I've been collecting some ponderings I'd like to write down. So:

A congregate of thoughts on Watcher lore (as of now):

• I really like that this DLC is right now three kids in a spiritual trenchcoat. None of them is normal. I bet they'd all be friends if they met.

• I really like the color coding of these 3, as for what I've assumed regarding to colors' symbolism in this world: - Black stands for Nirvāṇa, the Void, being outside of the reincarnation cycle - Gold/yellow stands for holiness, ascension - Blue/purple stands for damnation/stagnation - White stands for Saṃsāra, the cycle of reincarnation, the physical world (the Watcher lingers in the physical world, unwilling to leave it)

On the account of blue and yellow being on opposing sides on the color wheel, I'd also gander a guess that the Rot and the Void don't entirely agree with each other/may be on opposing sides.

• Therefore, I don't think the gardening ending was exactly what the Rot Prince wanted to achieve, supported by his last two dialogues with the Watcher:

[Greeting lines]. As with all great deeds, my work is not without great challenge. It has taken eons and the light fades. The paths close and change. I can almost feel... a will... at odds with my own.

[Greeting lines]. Forgive me if I go on! You have done so much for me, I will not burden you with my troubles. Please, rest here as long as you wish. You are always safe here, my dear friend. You, who were there for me.

My guess is that the content that hasn't dropped yet will introduce either a new character/s in a sort of godly roles, or will explain the powers playing behind the wheel flowers and the Cycle.

• A light at the end of the tunnel (or something white/bright with a way to it?) is mentioned by both Spinning Top (at her ending) and the Prince (both as a flowerbud and in that first paragraph I copied up there).

I don't know what to do with this yet, I just found it interesting. Something something the white light within the Void Sea in the original game?

• ,,Outer Rim...?"

The Buddhist cosmology says the world is made out of 9 mountains (Mount Sumeru [the axis mundi], 7 golden mountain ranges and 1 outermost iron mountain range [maybe the withered buildings here are made of rusted iron, buried in stardust]) and 8 seas (7 freshwater and 1 saltwater), with 4 continents within the salt sea who's inhabitants each have a little something extra (except the South I guess, that's where *we* are. well apparently all Buddhas appear here actually, so you know. that's a something).

For an interesting example, the north continent called Uttarakuru is said to house the wealthy, owning no private property, where their food grows by itself and they live in the skies (Iterator cities, nudge nudge).

The name of this region could point to the Buddhist cosmological map being a physical fact for this world. I'd like to think that the dimension hopping aspect to the Watcher's worming through the space-time is at least limited to 4 continents(/realities?).

Also a fan fact: in Chinese mythology it is said the waters flow and stars fall slowly, because a water god with a bad tamper, Gònggōng, broke one of the pillars supporting the sky. Combining this fun nugget with the established lore in a pearl that everything is once eaten away by the Void down below, I'd say it is safe to assume on 89% that the dust mentioned in that pearl comes from the heaven itself and creates a sort of a cycle of the physical matter.

Suppose stardust is what creates everything, powers everything (just as is said in science). Suppose the Starcatchers are superstructures made for conversion of it into desired forms, these ones perhaps in the West of the world specifically, because of their circular shape.

(Meaning Signal Spires are perhaps of the South, while original game- aka Pebbles and Moon- are in the North of this world.)

• I find it fascinating and validating that Spinning Top needed some sort of an Embrace from one of the Five Urges/Hindrances (the third one, companionship) to be able to pass on.

It points to my idea of what the religion is Really supposed to be about: the Five Urges are what they are- urges- and they cannot run rampant. The point isn't to absolutely *eradicate* violence, pleasure, companionship, hunger and desire to live from oneself. The point is to be able to control these things and not cling on to them.

Because if one clings on to something, they stagnate, they cannot progress, they rot and they *fear* losing the something more than they can truly enjoy it or they get far too lost in it to feel it right anymore. To cling on to life means being afraid of taking risks, trying something new and really Living.

But now that doesn't mean going for the opposite is the correct way to go about it- that still creates a desire, a clinging- an urge for death is just as good as urge for life. It binds. It's extremism without careful consideration for what is really the best to do, feel and think in any given situation.

(This goes for love, too, it is GOOD to love, but going too far becomes unhealthy obsession instead of love. Going the other way results in hatred, another utterly useless and harmful thing to harbor. Same as indifference - that is stagnation again, that isn't picking up something, working with it to move forward. Love is a forward motion that is required, but cannot be overdone because as so it would be bastardized into something else, possessive and caging.)

Spinning Top could move on only when she knew that the flipside of the Third Urge- a sickening loneliness- wasn't something to fear anymore.

• Yeah, I don't think we can count on backgrounds too much when it comes to size calculating on the basis that they are probably shaped around gameplay. Specifically thinking about how the spinning top toy changes sizes between it's in-game model and the art. When it comes to Ancients, I'd say the best one can do is do what feels right.

• The Rot Prince is some sort of a boosted up Preta, I swear to heavens. Hungry guy. Maybe the Rot as a whole is a Preta stand in, just way more physical.

• Can't believe my ,,Respawning is real" headcanon has been officially given the thumbs down... The *Strand* Theory is real. (Even though DP is separate from the Watcher, this at least explains why Artificer didn't just go back to the last shelter she slept in when her cubs were still with her. They went to a different strand, where a different Artificer managed the situation better and we are stuck in this reality without them.) (We see them in her Void ending either because they are the one thing her heart wishes for [the Void gives comfort to those who are passing, as far as I am concerned], or because the Void is where all the reality strands and times coincide into one another.)

• On that note, no Fucking wonder the Ancients wanna bail - we don't really know to what extend they were aware of reality's unwounding nature, but assuming it is Pretty Thorough, I too wouldn't wanna live with the knowledge that in one reality I might've died on my loved ones, leaving them broken, while in the other everything is just fine and dandy.

The endless wondering of ,,Did I die in a different reality at any point in my life? Did I leave these people I love behind to hurt, alone, and I can't do anything to help them? I can never know, I'm not allowed to comprehend..." would slowly kill anyone with a heart, I think.

• I wonder if the Prince is a puppet/the Rot made itself a puppet, - because the Starcatchers were Iterator-esque biomechanications with a different directive than iterating on the Big Problem and this is a consumed Starcatcher (something about its budding dialogue feels to me like there was a sense of a Self beforehand that was drowned out by the Rot and then was pulled forward again with additions) - because the Rot is at the edge of the universe (humming a tune) where a messed up slugcat decided to start ripping holes in the reality, therefore connecting different strands including to places where the Rot already existed as a plague upon Some Iterator, which gave spark to sapience and inspiration to a new mind

• The new karma set is definitely a droplet and the ripples it leaves behind. Makes sense, too, there's more ,,movement" within it the more Spinning Top yanks the Watcher around in time-space (accidentally, I'd guess. or the ,,blame" is more on Watcher *somehow*), messing up their physical existence more and more.

Maybe the karma symbols or the imagery itself have something to do with a combination of an axis mundi and the strand form of existence.

Something about there being a main timeline in which each action and decision creates a new ripple, a new strand.

• I wonder if the Watcher could've come across Spinning Top and effectively latch on/follow her, - because they were already dead/echoed (the dream sequence upon reaching the final karma level could mean they did go to the Void Sea and swam pretty deep but turned back and that resulted in Echo-ification? then again why can a lizard bite me. Spinny's laughing at me for it. Goddammit.) - because of their nature as someone who's so damn hesitant about things, who hangs in the backlines, only observes and learns. Very Echo-esque personality - because of their desire to have someone there

• Just realized that we have a canonical design for Spinning Top's mask, hot damn. ,,How do children's masks look like?" answered.

I don't know why, that kind of creeps me out.

• The portals existing outside of us are made by Spinning Top, I'm pretty sure. She's always over them.

Is it normal for Echoes to leave tears like that? I think if the Rot Prince met her and knew she's the one who started this whole journey that resulted in him coming to exist as a consciousness and to bloom, he'd see her as a friend the same way he sees the Watcher.

• I wonder if his approach to the Rot Triple Affirmitive is ,,it's going to get worse before it gets better". He has suffered, too- while he normally speaks gently, calmly, orderly, when he is a flowerbud he seems frantic to me. Like someone breathing through death before getting better.

• Is the concept of the Rot Prince created for the first time in all existences' or is he a repeating pattern, too? The Rot in the least seems to be a pattern, because of what Spinning Top says when we meet her in one of the original regions, eaten through by the Rot.

,,You shouldn't have come here. It's too far." Does that refer to this strand's/ripple's distance from the axis mundi/the water drop creating all these realities? The further out the little wave carries out, growing smaller and weaker, the more rotten through it is? Is it because still water is stagnation, just as the Rot is?

So the Cycle is change and movement, life and love, that exists in a hurtful matter not out of its design, but because it has to contend with absolute stillness/stagnation/the Rot? Or it's all part of the same system, truly designed like this?

Could a Mass Ascension be seen as an escape plan from a ripple growing old? Man...

• A quick attempt at illustrating the previous thought:

Some Pepe Silvia level nonsense going on here.

[backpackingspace]

In the odyssey, Penelope gave a test to all the travelers and beggers who claimed to carry news of her husband. She asked them everytime to describe his clothes. Because she had clothed him herself the morning he had left.

Odysseus is one of the few who pass it, describing a purple himation and the pin she had used.

Now picture, odysseus refuses to take this himation off. He doesn't care that it's getting increasingly tattered and stained /his wife put this on him/ and he will kill anyone who tries to take it off him. He looses everything he has over and over again. Except for this himation. He manages to hang on to it for the entire war and journey. Only to wake up on calypso's island and it's/gone./

When he begs the goddess for it's return she laughs an angry laugh. Saying "that old thing? I threw that away first. It was ruined beyond repair. You dont need a himation anyway but if you ask me nicely enough I'll make you a new one."

That's the first day odysseus spends all day weeping at the beach. But it certainly won't be the last.

[redthemarten]

No need too explain. Master Proxy saw everything.

[winter-parrot]

for @911whatisyourpride week 3: family. took this prompt a little sideways but the idea hit me like a truck like two hours ago and then i typed this entire ficlet directly into the tumblr post dialog like a madwoman, so.

buck doesn't exactly try to adopt a dog, and fails anyway. tommy picks up a dog and an (ex?)-boyfriend. | bucktommy (duh) | post season-8 | 2.4k

now on ao3!

------------

Buck keeps thinking about Blaze. Not Bingo, who went back to his family and is probably spoiled and happy and exactly where he belongs. But Blaze, whom for that single day had belonged to Buck. Who had been a friend when he and Eddie were on the outs, and everything was falling apart, and he had nobody to talk to because everyone thought he was overreacting. Someone who was happy to see him, who looked at him adoringly, who took joy from Buck's mere existence and gave joy in return.

Now, his life is a hundred times the mess that it was back then, but the parallels aren't escaping him.

And yeah, yeah, he's always got Maddie. But she's not his, not really; she's got more important people in her life. Her own family. Chimney, and Jee, and newborn baby Robert-who-he-still-cannot-call-Bobby. Chim's got her and Jee and Robert, in return. Eddie's got Chris, and Tia Pepa. Hen's got Karen and Denny and Mara too, now. Athena's got May and Harry, and anyway he's not going to impose on her, not now, not after everything.

Point is, everyone's got someone who's theirs. Everyone except him, that is. For a minute there he thought he might have Tommy, but well. Shows you how much he knows about love, about building a family.

So instead he's sitting all alone--in a shitty little Airbnb he's got for the week, because apartment hunting in LA is anything but fast--thinking about Blaze. And looking up dog rescues, just to dream about holding them all, and bringing one home, and having someone to greet him and be excited to see him when he gets home.

He knows it's pathetic--knew it even then, when he was clinging to Blaze and ignoring Eddie--but the one thing more pathetic than having a dog for your only friend and source of love, is having no one for a friend and source of love. Although, dreaming about having a dog for his only friend and source of love, when he can't even get a dog because he doesn't have a home address and anywhere with a pet deposit is going to be way out of his price range, is probably more pathetic than both.

The thought doesn't stop him from scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling past the little squares of photos and blurbs. There's a five-year-old beagle named Dot that reminds him a little too painfully of Blaze. A six-month-old mutt of a puppy--they think it's maybe a boxer mix--with bright blue eyes called Frankie. A massive ninety-pound Doberman named Sergeant with a noble air to him--and behaviour problems, apparently. A tiny yorkie, by far the teey-tiniest dog he's ever seen, called Mini.

And then, at the bottom, a raggedy three-legged lab mix called Tres. He's the longest-running resident of the shelter, according to his bio. Lost his leg in an accident, while wandering in the streets. Seven years old, old enough to have trouble being adopted even without the missing leg. He's also got the biggest, most soulful brown eyes Buck's ever seen on a dog. Ever seen period, maybe.

Before he quite realizes what he's doing, Buck has the address memorized and the keys to his Jeep in his hand. No, that's not entirely true. He sort of halfway realizes what he's doing, but refuses to let himself recognize it all the way. Because if he did, then he'd have to acknowledge that it's insane, and then he'd have nothing to do but sit there and think about how pathetic he is, and how sad Tres looked in the photos.

The shelter is almost halfway across the city, because he wasn't exactly paying attention to the location when he started down this impromptu spiral. But that's alright; he's on day one of a four off, so he's got the time to kill. It's early enough, too, so traffic won't even be that bad. (He Does Not think about why he was up so early on his day off. That way lies grief and pain and danger, and he does not want to end up accidentally wrapping his car around a power pole.)

Still, this is LA, and "not that bad" ends up being nearly an hour instead. Plenty of time to think about what the hell he's doing, and all the million reasons it's a stupid, impulsive idea. But he's started this already, going Full Buck as they'd say, and he's determined not to turn back. Maybe he can't take Tres home, doesn't even have a home to take Tres to, but that doesn't mean he can't go see the dog, right? Maybe he can't be enough for anyone in his life, can't make them happy or hold them together, but surely he can be a bright spot in one sad dog's day. He can be good for this one thing.

The shelter's open, but just barely, when he gets there. No cars in the tiny parking lot, thank God, because most sane people don't show up to animal shelters at--he checks his phone--8:17 in the morning. The tiny bells above the door chime a happy little chorus as he walks in. A woman behind the front desk looks up, seeming startled to see him there. Fair enough.

"Hi, u-um, I saw this dog on your website?" Buck says, uncertainty tilting his sentence up into a question.

"Are you looking to adopt?" the woman--Miranda, according to the name tag Buck's now close enough to read--asks, already rummaging for some forms.

"U-um, not-not yet. I don't, um, I don't currently have a pet-friendly place," Buck says. He doesn't have any place, of course, but that's a lot to unload on this poor woman at barely eight in the morning. "B-but, um, but I'd like to someday. When I'm in a- a better place." Winces at the phrasing; apparently he's so chock full of death euphemisms these days, it's leaking out everywhere. "I just, um, I just wanted to see the dog for now? Maybe play wit him for a bit, if-if that's something I can do?"

Miranda looks at him for a long moment. It feels, oddly, like the way Bobby used to look at him. Piercing and uncompromising, but not unkind. Like she was looking at him, really looking, past his shell and right down to the core of him--not to judge, or find him wanting, but just to see. To understand. To maybe even help. The moment stretches like gum, and Buck's not even sure he's breathing. Not until she nods once, sharply, and says, "What was his name? The dog you were looking at?"

"U-um, Tres," Buck says, somehow surprised by this turn of events despite literally showing up here for it. "I was looking at Tres."

Miranda's face turns apologetic. "Oh hon, someone already put in yestereday to adopt him."

Something inside Buck stretches past breaking point, snaps into overstretched pieces. Of course he can't even do this right. Too late and not enough. Forces his lips into a smile that feels far too brittle for how practiced it's become, these past few weeks. "R-right. Okay. That's, that's good for him, right? G-going home to someone who can love him." Love him better than Buck ever could. Who probably has a yard for Tres to play around in, and a cozy fireplace for Tres to curl up in front off, with a fluffy dog bed all set up and waiting.

Miranda nods, but she seems distracted, chewing at her lip. Looks down at her desk. Shuffles through some papers, looking for something. Squints down at one sheet, running her fingers along the lines. "Pick up time, pick up time... ah! Yeah, that's what I thought." She looks up at him, still holding the paper in her hand. "Listen, you seem like a nice guy--the people who come here for the saddest dogs usually are. You can see other dogs, of course, whichever ones you want. But if you've got your heart set on Tres, The owner's out back right now, picking up Tres and his stuff. I can go and ask if he'd be okay with you at least say hi to Tres."

Buck nods, mumbles out a thanks that may or may not come out intelligible past the growing knot in his throat. He can't explain it, why meeting Tres feels so important. Maybe it's because he felt like they were kindred souls, in some terribly pathetic way, forgotten and left behind and waiting, waiting, waiting for someone to finally want him. Maybe it's because he thought that he could save someone, even just one sad dog, from the terrible loneliness eating him up from the inside--and be saved in return. Maybe he just wanted to be good for something, anything, and this was the one tiny thing that felt maybe, possibly, within his reach.

Or maybe he was just a sucker for a sob story and big sad eyes and abandoned dogs. It doesn't have to be that deep.

Miranda pops her head in from the back door where she'd disappeared to. "He said yes, of course. Come on and meet Tres. It'd be good for his socialization anyway, to meet some more people."

Well. At least this whole insane trip wasn't a total loss, then. He can go meet Tres and his new owner, play with a dog for a few minutes, and then drive back to his sad Airbnb so he can keep searching apartment listings. Buck makes his way across the lobby, towards the door that Miranda's holding open. Ducks out through the gap. Steps into a little back yard, lined with straggly grass and patches of sand. Looks around for Tres.

Finds himself looking at familiar blue eyes, instead.

"Evan?" Tommy says, staring right back at him like he's seeing a ghost. His eyes are wide, and so blue, and rimmed faintly red with exhaustion. Buck's pretty sure there's new lines in their corners, stupidly wants to reach out a run a gentle finger over them, to learn their new shapes. Clenches his hands into fists in his pockets to stop himself.

"T-tommy," he says, more breath than word. Has to swallow twice and clear his throat awkwardly before he tries again. "Hey. I, uh, I didn't know you were in the market for a dog."

Tommy shrugs, a little awkward. Something about the motion somehow makes those strong, wide shoulders seem small. "House was feeling too quiet. Thought a dog might help liven things up. Plus, I've always been weak for the puppy eyes." The last sentence comes out with the weight of a confession, too heavy for the back yard of an animal shelter with a soon-to-be-spoiled three-legged dog sniffing around by their feet.

Buck makes his lips curl up at the corner, pretends he doesn't notice it feels more like a grimace than a smile. "You've got good taste," he says, jerking his chin towards Tres. "I had my eyes on him this morning, too."

"Sorry," Tommy says, and it feels like he's talking about more than the dog. "Didn't mean to steal him from you."

It's Buck's turn to shrug, this time. He tries not to think about other things Tommy's stolen, not from him but for him. Tries to hold on to the fading memory of how he felt that sun-drenched morning in Eddie's kitchen, in that helicopter still full of hope over the LA skyline. Tommy's going to be good to Tres. Buck knows, because he was good to him, too. Besides, Tommy's got a solid house, big back yard and a fireplace just like he'd been picturing.

Buck's got no house, and no dog, and no one to go home to. He leans down to pet Tres instead of thinking about that. Lets Tres lick his face and slobber all over him. Pretends that's why dampness weighs down his lashes.

"I was just gonna take him home, get him settled in," Tommy says above him, after a few prolonged minutes of silence.

Buck get up, because he does know how to take a hint, sometimes. Time to get out of Tommy's hair, let him take home the dog he wants without the ex-boyfriend he didn't want. Doesn't meet Tommy's eyes as he turns to leave, because even he's got a limit for how pathetic he's willing to be in one day.

"Do you want to come with me?" Tommy says, the words uncharacteristically rushed.

Buck looks up with surprise. Tommy's got a hand rubbing against the back of his neck in a gesture Buck hasn't seen in ages.

"D-do you want me to?" Buck says. Tries not to feel like he's asking about more than just Tres. Fails. It's like they're having a whole second conversation--except they're not, because they haven't said more than maybe fifty words to each other and neither of them are actually saying it. So maybe it's all in Buck's head; maybe he's gotten so desperate that he's reading signs into innocent

Tommy's wide-eyed again, breathing a little fast and shallow. For a second, he looks almost panicked. Doesn't quite look at Buck as he reaches down to clip a leash onto Tres's collar, and lingers to pet down the line of Tres's spine with a huge hand.

When he stands back up, something in him has straightened. He's steady, looking Buck straight in the eyes as he nods firmly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I want you to come home with me." Glances down at his feet, where Tres is sitting patiently with his tongue rolling out. "You and me and Tres."

They're still not talking, not really. Not about the them of it all But it's the closest they've come since the helicopter--no, since before that. Since that morning, maybe.

It feels like an invitation. Like a closed door, reopened. Like a second, third, fifth chance at something.

Buck leans down to give Tres one last pat--for luck, for hope, for gratitude, for courage. He takes the hand Tommy opens to him. Him and Tommy and Tres. It feels like a good place to start.

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You couldn't call me?

[lizardkingeliot]

I had taken seven thousand souls by then. But Lestat was the only one that felt like murder. Semantics, surely, but it's how I felt. He came by invitation. My distraction from the monochromatic landscape. The gray of an obliterated road, the gray-brown of a charred and bullet-ridden city.

[hollytree33]

“Not much farther now.”

Wanted to try my hand at a mock screenshot study of Shivana! This is of the night before she reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes, before a much longer journey begins (she did not dress for the weather)

[crowleyholmes]

"Safety"

I just think he deserves to sit in a window and look at his stars until he falls asleep...

[valkyurii]

there are two types of elden ring fan:

the normal one

and then this guy

[jakeperalta]

feel free to add where you're from in the tags :)

[bisclavret]

like many who have suffered at the hands of bbc merlin before me, i recently indulged in a thought experiment in which i outlined my own version of seasons 3-5 that stay thematically and tonally in line with the show (except they're less fucking stupid). but then i quickly realized that focusing on details is pointless: all you need is to solve the one Big Problem the show has, and the rest will follow. the problem in question? ✨morgana✨

i like the first two seasons. s1 achieves what it sets out to do and has fun while doing it, and s2, while flawed, sets up a ton of potential that the following seasons unfortunately squander, beginning with the insidious season 3. you can only distract me with cute knights and goblins and fart jokes for so long before i start seeing through you, evil, evil season of television.

my hypothesis is that if the writers had crafted s3 morgana into anything more sympathetic than a violent half-alive poltergeist that can never be reasoned with because she's suddenly terminally off her rocker, everything would've fallen into place. a sympathetic morgana would've made real, valid arguments against uther (and arthur) that wouldn't just be the ramblings of a woman possessed. her betrayal of arthur would have stemmed from her feeling increasingly morally superior to him because of his complacency in the face of their father's tyranny. under morgause's guidance she would stop believing that arthur is capable of change, and the whole point would be that she might actually be right. arthur would have to actively try and prove her wrong, instead of getting praised for doing the bare minimum because the bar is on the floor.

furthermore, morgana's prophetic dream about arthur and gwen becoming king and queen and her decision to prevent this however she can is a direct parallel to merlin learning about that same prophecy and making it happen by any means necessary. merlin's desires about his and arthur's futures are subtextually fueled by gay love and devotion, so why couldn't morgana's be? why couldn't she properly express her bitterness that arthur gets to be with gwen in a way she can't "took gwen away" from her, instead of suddenly declaring that gwen is nothing more than a servant, after two seasons of demonstrating again and again that she loves, values, and respects gwen more than anyone else in that godforsaken castle?

following this, an angry and emotionally volatile but still sensible morgana asking gwen to stay by her side during the coup of the castle in the s3 finale and gwen going behind her back to help arthur and the knights would've hurt like a bitch. double-sided betrayal! gwen having a real plot! the proper beginnings of a toxic yuri that would shape a generation!

then there's the utter hubris of having morgana shoot arrows at the same civilians she worried herself sick over for 2 seasons — even morgan, her medieval counterpart that was rooted in every sexist trope in existence, doesn't just go around killing senselessly but instead has (often petty!) personal vendettas against gwen, arthur, and the knights. morgana had every right to be sick of the pretensions around chivalry in camelot (she was always quick to mock it, even in s1), and to lash out at the knights and soldiers after years of feeling powerless in a castle full of armed men that blindly followed her oppressor. the show conveniently forgets that morgana was victimized as a woman as well as a sorcerer those first 2 seasons.

but like i said, this is not just about morgana. allowing her to remain a real and multifaceted character even as she betrays everyone in pursuit of her ambitions would've given the rest of the core four more interesting conflict to work with: merlin because he would have to experience real consequences to his actions, arthur because he would watch his sister go against his father (and his knights, and his birthright) and experience some actual internal dilemmas about it, and gwen because she would be forced to choose between morgana and arthur without the pretense that it's an obvious or easy choice for her to make.

even morgause and gaius would come off more interesting as mentors: neither one inherently evil or inherently good, both jaded by events that happened before our protagonists were even born, both heavily influencing morgana and merlin into fulfilling roles that they think are appropriate, but that morgana and merlin may not have chosen for themselves had they not been under their care.

you get the gist. if the show followed its own setup, morgana's mistakes wouldn't lie in cheap and senseless acts of violence but in alienating the people she loves because she is too hurt and jaded to trust them. meanwhile, everybody else would feel guilt over "failing" her and yet they would be too caught up in their own (sometimes flawed!) beliefs of right and wrong to truly see her point of view.

arthur would convince himself it was sorcery that corrupted her. merlin would know that isn't true but he wouldn't be able to argue without confessing everything, which is the defining conflict between him and morgana and it's cheapened when she's just an evil witch caricature and merlin is framed as inherently virtuous in contrast. gwen, too, would become a more active participant in her own life by choosing arthur over morgana and choosing to rule camelot with him instead of just waiting politely to see where things go.

and, of course, uther's downfall and death would be quick, final, and completely earned — when and why did the show even decide he of all people was the sympathetic villain, anyway?

lastly, and perhaps controversially, i think morgana should've learned merlin's true identity by season 4. her being the first of the main characters to find out makes perfect sense considering their shared history and their interconnected and mirrored arcs. even the show seems to agree, considering she does find out a little before arthur. but the narrative itself tried pointing flashing neon arrows towards this way earlier — there is a whole entire episode in s4 where merlin being emrys is repeatedly spelled out for morgana and she still isn't allowed to see it. that episode makes her look like the stupidest person to ever live, which is pretty funny im not gonna lie, but also another frustrating thing in the endless string of frustrating things that make up this show.

morgana learning that merlin has magic would've transformed the source of merlin's anxiety from a crippling fear of being outed someday to the crippling fear of knowing she could out him at any moment. this would make him want to beat her to the punch (perhaps he'd consider killing her for a minute and decide against it because she isn't a cartoonishly insane evil person in my version of events) and maybe he would even feel some tentative excitement at the idea of coming clean, now that it seems inevitable. after all, he always intended to tell arthur eventually! and i think gaius would have to admit outright that he does not want merlin to tell arthur he has magic because he, gaius, simply cannot risk such a gamble. it would be so interesting to see gaius and merlin clash and disagree once it becomes obvious that it's not merlin that isn't ready for the reveal, it's gaius. delicious!

with morgana's knowledge looming, things would inevitably spiral into a magic reveal by the end of season 4. i picture this season as an absolute mess of miscommunication between everyone at camelot, which is, y'know, canon. growing increasingly cunning and vengeful, morgana would use this tension to her advantage, destabilizing the court from the outside while she creates alliances with other sorcerers outside of camelot (instead of living alone in a hovel for no reason — morgana le fay i'm sorry i'm so sorry they gave you agravaine instead of your all-female entourage oh my god).

and here's where the events would change beyond recognition (aka here's where the meta becomes the fanfic i refuse to write). picture it with me: a militia of sorcerers infiltrates camelot and arthur and gwen have to set aside their differences (assuming gwen kissing lancelot and arthur overreacting happens, which it should) for the good of the kingdom as well as for love. picture high priestess morgana in her element, side by side with a bunch of misfit sorcerers that aren't so easily vilified, chopping down camelot's soldiers and knights and assuredly making their way to the newly-minted king.

then, just as it starts to seem that all hope is lost, in swoops merlin (the actual merlin, not his old fart disguise) on dragonback (kilgharrah hates morgana so much i know his sexist ass would stoop to anything to stop her)!!! imagine merlin showing off the extent of his powers in front of everyone and preventing the sorcerers from getting any further, declaring loud and clear that camelot is protected by him, by emrys. imagine that display of power alone being enough to send everyone home.

imagine the loyalties clearly drawn: merlin on arthur's side, morgana on the sorcerers'. imagine arthur, feeling confused and betrayed by everyone at this point, banishing merlin despite everything he's done for him in the angstiest, most emotionally dysregulated scene the show had ever put to screen. imagine merlin starting season 5 free at last but very lonesome, an embittered dragonlord like his father. imagine the absolute mess camelot would become without him, even with gwen — now queen guinevere — there to pick up the slack. imagine arthur actually earning merlin back, finally growing into his role as king as he does so. imagine the reunion.

all this and more could've been not just possible but inevitable if morgana was allowed to remain a complex character that is neither inherently good nor inherently evil: it was undeniably the biased and one-note treatment of morgana's downfall by the writers that set the precedent for literally everything else that happened after merlin chose to poison her. the show wouldn't have even had to jeopardize its tone or the monster-of-the-week vibe, all it would've had to do is admit that even the "good guys" are capable of mistakes and what makes them good is the ability to feel remorse and change for the better. (as opposed to uther, who was miles beyond redemption since way before the pilot and deserved to lose everything and die alone. OBVIOUSLY???)

in a world where morgana remains multifaceted and sympathetic, mordred would get a better arc as well, so if we really wanted to, we could still end on the same tragic note that the show ended on. with so much harm inflicted onto so many innocent people by the pendragons for so long (including mordred and the many druids and sorcerers that raised him), it could realistically end up being a little too late for anything more than one shining glimpse of king arthur and the sorcerer merlin's short-lived golden age before fate catches up to them. glimpsing that reality just to immediately lose it would've been far more satisfying and far more tragic than whatever the writers thought they were doing with all that pointless carrot-dangling.

and finally, an ending in line with morgana's new and improved arc. in this version, rather than bleeding out on the forest floor alone, she would channel the morgan le fay we know from the legends: sobered up by the reality of her brother dying, she would use her high priestess status (and perhaps also her pendragon status) to be granted passage over to avalon alongside arthur on the boat — a one-way ride — just to make sure he gets there safely. this is her penance for the harm she has caused, the same way arthur's penance is to die and leave the true ruler of camelot (gwen) behind to achieve everything he was too slow and indecisive to build while he still had time.

merlin's penance, then, would be to stay behind and watch them cross over without him, waiting and waiting and waiting until they come back or until he can finally join them. which is a bit fucking harsh if i'm honest, so i'd at least make it slightly more faithful to the legends by having him return as an old man and letting him take a long nap under a tree by the shore, his body slowly enveloped by vines like the cobwebbed fisher king in 3x08, never fully sure if he's dreaming or if there really are strange shapes fading in and out of the fog over the lake. still tragic, but nevertheless a little more open-ended and whimsical than [TRUCK NOISES] THE END!

[mintjeru]

technically this is for the requester but it's also for anyone who's having a hard time-- you've worked hard, good job today 💜 "alhaitham and kaveh hugging but kaveh is comforting alhaitham" for @/zarzaryyy. thank you for your donation to @hkvthm-action!!

open for better quality | no reposts

[cake-emu]

"I'm really sorry to have to be the one to-- My colleagues have found a body near the hospital. They think it might be Rob."

Coronation Street | Carla Connor + Lisa Swain (12th March 2025)

[larkwinged]

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒 𝐅. 、𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

PROFILE. a self-righteous knight who is too willing to throw their life away, and too eager to charge into battle. underneath their stubborn exterior, they are riddled with the pressure of upholding a family title that has long been lost to time.

FULL NAME. artemis elise fröhlich

PRONOUNS. they / them

GENDER. fem-presenting non-binary

AGE. early twenties

HEIGHT. 5”1

BIRTHDAY. november 12th

OCCUPATION. knight

AFFILIATION. knights of favonius

ELEMENT. pyro

CONSTELLATION. columba bellicosi

WEAPON TYPE. sword — “herald of the dawn”

Now stripped of its original purpose as a vessel to store all the memories of an ancient god king, this sword has been passed down in the Fröhlich family since the dawn of time.

Once wielded by the god of memories herself, this sword was blessed by the winds and presented as a gift to her youngest child upon the morn of their knighting ceremony.

“You, who represent the grace and bravery of humanity,” said the Queen, “take this and go. Become a pillar of hope to those wallowing in the darkness, and guide the lost onto a chivalrous path. You, the Dovewing Knight.”

And so, the first Dovewing Knight set out, protecting the people of Cairnfelle and standing tall as a beacon of hope, just as they were requested.

At the edge of the world, when the brilliance of Cairnfelle collapsed and the mountains crumbled, the sword found its way tumbling back into the hands of its previous owner to defend her honor, and upkeep her legacy until the final trumpet sang … announcing her defeat.

With no definite home, the sword lay in the ruins of its kin, preserved well by the Anemo Archon and his will — until the day it found its way into the waiting hands of the inheritor of an ancient title.

• demo music concepts. one two three

• ENG voice claim : keath ósk as cole seymour from yaelokre’s “meadowlark” project

• JP voice claim : marina inoue as armin arlert from attack on titan

CHARACTER STORY 1: eastward of eden

It is true that Artemis has long held resentment towards their older sister and past caretaker, Lilith. As a child, Artemis was refused of many things — including choosing their own clothes, partaking in certain activities, and having their own privacy. There wasn’t much they were allowed to do, and even the hobbies they enjoyed ended up ruined by Lilith’s excitement and pushy nature.

To this day, Lilith is unaware of the mental anguish she caused her siblings over the course of their entire childhood. However, in her own eyes, she has done no such thing, and has succeeded at being a “mother.”

Many citizens have told her, “My, you exercise much control over them,” and yet, she has failed to see the error in her ways. It is not entirely her fault, as she was forced into the role of a mother when she wasn’t ready for such a task. Even though she failed in many aspects of her parenting skills, there was one thing she has always truly succeeded at: caring deeply for her family.

However, no amount of love could undo the years of fighting and hurtful words thrown around between the siblings.

CHARACTER STORY 2: legacy

Long ago, in the days of yore, the archaic land of Mondstadt had been ruled by a monarch older than Decarabian. Her rule was rumored to last longer than his, and her birth is now nothing but scattered fragments along the wind.

When the Queen of the North Wind descended and claimed Mondstadt as her home, a mighty kingdom formed under her feet. Small huts grew to larger, firmer homes, and gargantuan cathedrals made of marble were erected in her honor. Trumpets blew, the wind howled, snow fell, and mountains as high as the heavens towered above humanity.

In later years, the prospering kingdom of Cairnfelle was officially born. Serving as a haven for travelers and poets alike, the kingdom sang with energy as it thrived under Queen Catalina’s guiding hand. The god of memories was exceptionally gentle, with a kind and compassionate heart that moved even the most stoic-faced men to tears. Her words were wise, her complexion glowing, and her promises true.

Cairnfelle, as much as it prospered, gained an enemy from a distant land. With no choice but to face the beast she prodded, the Queen set out to befriend the raging phoenix that had enough of her games. Ever the charming soul, the Queen did not have to do much to make the phoenix bow to her every whim, and before the citizens of Cairnfelle had the chance to acclimate to the visitor, the two were to be wed.

There is not much to say for the years in between the joining of two god kings and the fall of Cairnfelle, but this: Four inexplicably brave and virtuous souls were born from the two gods — four demigod knights who carved the way for the future of Mondstadt: The Four Archangels.

The Blair Family — the origin of the Fröhlichs, is no longer the raging flame of life it had once been, but a snuffed out ember of its former glory.

Only in passing on the titles of the Four Archangel Knights can the present day Fröhlich family hold tight to what was once a name feared and adored by all.

CHARACTER STORY 3: composition

Many questions have arisen over the years; all pertaining to a certain facet of Artemis’ composition.

“Is it a curse?” They’ve inquired, only to wind up receiving a simple, “I’m not even sure myself!”

However, that it is a small white lie they’ve grown to tell. In fact, Artemis is very much aware of the reason why they consistently find themselves on the brink of death and luckily make it out alive. It is because of the unique composition their ancestor, Lowen, was made of: pure and unbridled wrath.

The story goes as such: In the days of yore, when gods and monsters still yet walked the earth, a beast born of flame and rage took flight. They seared their enemies and allies alike, and roused the hearts of warriors all across Natlan. They utterly refused to lay their past life to rest. In doing so, they made a promise to their newfound family. The wrath that lived inside them was nothing but a blessing, and deserved to be passed on through their children, and future generations. And so, the endless wrath that boiled in their veins was passed on — consuming the lives of their children, and overtaking the brilliant flames that became their descendants.

To be a god’s descendant has always been an honor in the Fröhlich family line… Yet, Artemis — like the direct children of the god of wrath — see it as naught but a curse; For what blessing could bring about destruction and the devastation of any living being in one’s wake.

VISION STORY:

The blistering pyro vision attached to Artemis’ belt was said to be a gift from the gods, and maybe even a gift from the long gone god of wrath themselves.

What else are visions besides gifts from the gods? A tool to wield, and yet another curse Artemis must deal with.

At the young age of eleven, Artemis was sent out on their first escorting mission. It was their first mission given to them by Grand Master Varka, who was elated to test their strength and endurance. Not many were willing to accept an escort from a child — as was the case with the Fontainian aristocrat Artemis was talking their ear off to. However, the man said nothing, as the child’s directional skills were second to none. It was only when they hit a bump in the road that the man questioned Artemis’ capabilities as a knight.

“I should’ve known better than to trust a child!” He yelled, waving his fist in the air as he pushed them aside and ran off ahead by himself in the rain, leaving the young Artemis to fend for themselves amidst a hoard of abyssal monsters.

Although panic was steadily rising throughout their body, they forced themself forward — slashing at every monster with a shaky grip on their sword. The rain poured, sagging their clothes, and dragging their arms down to the dirt. The grip on their sword slipped, as did their footing, and they tumbled to the hard ground with a rough clash.

Their shoulder-piece scratched the bridge of their nose on the way down, and a thick line of blood began to spill from the open wound. A rifthound drew closer, baring its teeth and snapping its jaw as its claws outstretched, striking Artemis across the head. A clap of thunder sounded, and amidst the ringing in their ears, Artemis felt the weight of ten large wooden planks collapse on their back.

Even so, they shakily grabbed their sword, their nails digging into the wet earth, and began to stand. Their blood boiled as a wrath they were only warned about once crept up to the surface, prickling along their skin until it caved inwards, tugging at their ribcage and burning against their racing heart.

In a flash of white and gold, the hoard of rifthounds lay motionless on the grass, their bodies turning to dust as Artemis panted heavily. The wrath inside their veins bubbled, and their vision turned red. It was all consuming. It was destructive, and it was total annihilation. They struck down every monster seeping from an abyssal pylon until finally, they tore the pylon in half with nothing but their blade and their bare hands.

The rain continued to fall as they dropped their sword and collapsed to the ground in a heap of sore limbs and bloodied grass. Their eyes fell close for a moment — at least, what felt like a moment — and when they opened, a shining vision sat amongst the pool of blood left behind by their foes.

Indeed. The god of wrath, whose curse ran rampant in their veins, rewarded them with yet another “gift.”

𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

• hobbies: When they are home in Dornman Port enjoying their days off, they like to wind down by practicing the art of crochet. Not only is it soothing to sit by a windowsill while the afternoon breeze filters into their bedroom, it is also a hobby their late mother held dear. By partaking in this hobby, they feel closer to their mother, and can preserve her memory longer. Another hobby is sports. Artemis can often be found playing with the kids in the port during vacations.

• beliefs: The Fröhlich family have always dedicated their lives to the protection of Mondstadt, and hold a firm worship to a god king who has long been dead. Although they have accepted Barbatos as their new savior, they still hold their original god close to their hearts. Artemis has naturally followed this belief and considers their worship of the god of memories their religion. During rough times, they find solace in a temple far north and meditate there for as long as they deem necessary. Once a month, they offer up a few of their most important memories— a ritual that has been passed down in the Fröhlich family for over 3000 years.

(This act of offering up memories is akin to the way some worshippers will offer animal sacrifices to the god they serve.)

• about — fate: Artemis is a firm believer that fate will guide the worthy and ultimately lead everyone onto the path they are destined to walk. However, they do not include the meddling of gods and higher beings into this equation. They believe that fate is its own entity and not dictated by the Archons nor Celestia. It acts of its own accord, and the gods are mere victims of fate, as well. Not even Celestia will be spared.

• about — death: Artemis believes that death is a stepping stone to a greater afterlife. Akin to their many family members, they believe that life is temporary, and death is eternal. When one dies, they are not truly dead; for they are shedding their mortal shell and accepting their true form, which is the soul. The soul will live on forever in the afterlife, while the physical body is nothing more than a temporary shell to house said soul. With this belief, the Fröhlich family does not fear death, but welcomes it with open arms— greeting it like an old friend.

[sluckythewizard]

PART OF A BIGGER DOODLE PAGE. WHEN ITS DONE ILL TUCK THE LINK INTO THIS LITTLE X RIGHT HERE ----> [X] I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE TOM N JERRY DYNAMIC W EMIZEL N VEX. IMAGINE BEING SO SO HAUNTED BY A LITTLE GUY THATS JUST SSSSOO FUCKING ANNOYING.